Gambit
by Melora Maxwell
Summary: We are the last four Daleks in existence. If we are meant to be the greatest race in the universe, how is it that we cannot survive where other species flourish? Dalek Sec POV.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: You knew it had to happen.

* * *

Disclaimer: Dalek Sec, Cult of Skaro, the Daleks, and Doctor Who – property of the BBC, Terry Nation and Russell T. Davies. The Knights Tempus – mine. You swipe, you die.

Warnings: HUGE spoilers for Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks, equally massive spoilers for AoG/Doomsday, and pretty massive ones for the classic series. Oh, and lots of Dalek angst and icky stuff.

* * *

**Gambit: Part 1**

* * *

I can feel it.

I can feel the tension in the air as they move about the laboratory.

I can feel the incredulity, the exasperation of Thay and Jast as they stare at me.

I know what it is that they believe.

The years spent within the Void, the Battle of Canary Wharf, and our desperate escape through time…

These recent events have somehow negatively altered my neural chemistry.

As the humans would so crudely put it; they believe I am insane.

Dalek Sec, the head of the Cult of Skaro and one of the last four Daleks in existence, has become insane.

My limbs twitch within my travel unit as I reflect on this thought.

* * *

The Cult was originally charged by the Emperor to think as the enemy thinks. To find new ways of exterminating the enemy.

To do that, to think as the enemy thinks, we had to adapt. We grew wiser, more cunning, and I would have thought, more accepting of new ideas, new philosophies.

The others certainly did not complain when I made the suggestion of names. No, they accepted that concept most readily.

Thay, Jast and Caan.

My people.

My brethren.

My family.

The Cult of Skaro.

It is for them and the future of our people that I do this.

We must adapt if we are to survive, otherwise all hope is lost for our race.

I merely have to convince them of that.

If I must sacrifice myself, then so be it.

If that would lead my brothers to term my actions insane or misguided, then so be it.

* * *

Caan did not initially react positively to the concept of directly working with the humans. But even he would not disobey a direct order. He became my second for that reason – I would prefer to keep him where I can be certain of his intent.

In a curious way, I believe he now actually enjoys his interactions with Diagoras. They are both intelligent and amoral, Diagoras intriguingly so.

He shows no fear towards Caan, a rarity in itself.

As I watch through a monitor, the Grecian-American human stands, dressed in an immaculate black pinstripe suit and highly polished brogues, next to a non-descript male, one of the many construction workers currently employed to complete the massive structure that is the Empire State Building.

Flanked by two Pig Slaves, Caan slowly moves out of the lift, his headpiece moving to stare at Diagoras while the other human points at his travel unit, his body shaking.

'**I have been summoned. Explain. _Explain_!**'

I silently muse that Diagoras must be prepared to submit an adequate explanation to Caan, lest he be punished for disturbing our groundwork for the Final Experiment.

Caan does not appreciate interruptions of any kind to his work.

Even if he believes that this project is sheer madness.

The human backs away as Caan and the Slaves advance. 'It can talk…how does it talk?!'

He then finally registers the presence of the Slaves. 'And what the hell are they?! You gotta be kiddin' me!!'

Diagoras gracefully moves into view, his face and manners almost nauseatingly smooth as he walks towards the draughtsman's table at the side of the room. 'I'm sorry my lord, but this man is refusing to complete the work.'

Caan studies the male before arriving at a suitable conclusion. '**Then we must replace him.**'

The human continues to shake. 'Is anyone gonna tell me what the hell is happenin' here?!'

Caan merely stares at him. '**Use him. Take him for the Final Experiment.**'

The human struggles in vain as the two Slaves forcibly restrain him and drag him into the lift. 'What's goin' on?! Let go of me!! Get off, let go…!!'

Neither Caan nor Diagoras bother to watch the trio leave. There are more important matters to consider at present.

'**The Empire State Building must be completed in time.**'

Diagoras stares into the blue eye-piece with some hesitation. 'It will be. Trust me. Labour is cheap…and that man can be replaced.'

Within this time period, I have no doubt of the truth of his words.

'**The plan must not fail. We calculate the Gamma Strike has accelerated. We need more bodies immediately.**'

Diagoras nods, his expression now concerned if somewhat confused. No matter.

'Yes master.'

* * *

The Empire State Building.

One of the greatest architectural achievements in human history. Famed for the sheer scale and height, the tallest building in New York and on Earth for several years, and reputed to be one of the most significant examples of Art Deco architecture even by the fifty-first century.

History records that the building construction contract was won by the firm Starrett Brothers and Eken. Diagoras worked within that agency before Caan and I made contact with him, convincing him with ease that it would be in his best interests to work for the Cult, to incorporate our designs into the existing layout.

I recalled at that time, an image of the structure from the Dalek historical archives. Functional and simple in design, yet possessing a curious visual appeal, the metal and glass on the exterior of the building being utilised to create curves and sweeping arches.

It was one of the few elements of human culture which I grew to appreciate, perhaps even admire.

But the era in which the building was constructed…

If the humans were this proficient, this talented at designing and building the tallest man-made structure on Earth at this point in history, how is it that they cannot even feed themselves, or care for each other?

Even now I cannot adjust to the depravation and poverty which permeates the atmosphere. This situation would be inconceivable on Skaro.

All Dalek are created as equals. The programming which delineates our specialisms is only inserted after the cloning process is complete and any hatchlings found to be flawed are destroyed. Most would die shortly after being ejected into the wastelands.

The beings which survived within the Lake of Mutations were the rare exceptions. During the Time War, they were captured and reprogrammed as Special Weapons Daleks, kamikaze troops fit for frontline battle.

Unpleasant, yes. But all would serve their purpose.

Here…the humans who have lost their homes, their way of life; they are neither exterminated nor reprogrammed. Instead they are forced to live a most wretched existence, scrabbling like vermin for scraps of food, fighting each other for shelter and warmth.

Even more distasteful to me is that their Emperor, President Hoover, knows of this situation, and does little to aid them, believing that 'voluntary cooperation' is the best means by which to alleviate the suffering of his people.

Ridiculous.

If the Emperor of the Daleks knew of a similar situation within the Empire, he would take immediate action to rectify the situation, not make vague gestures of goodwill.

For the Daleks are not known for 'voluntary cooperation'.

In some way, I believe we are helping the humans with our actions, providing them with work and some financial aid. In turn, they will provide us with the means to rebuild the Dalek Empire and the rebirth of our people.

We are not human, and yet we give with ease that which President Hoover cannot and will not offer.

Who then, is considered to be more 'human'?

Some would call the idea sickening.

But I prefer to think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement.

If we are to understand the humans, we must think like the humans.

This is, and always will be, our prime directive.

* * *

I watch the monitor as Caan emerges from the lift.

Diagoras left the building a number of hours previously in order to recruit new workers, seemingly for work.

In reality…

The Final Experiment requires living beings. And as the humans have proved almost constantly in this era, the homeless, the refugees, the dispossessed…they will all come to us.

A small team of humans are currently wandering through the sewer systems below the building. The Pig Slaves will find them soon enough.

At present however, we must continue to clarify the importance of the work in which the humans are engaged.

Caan glides forward to pass Diagoras. The human gives no immediate indication that he has registered the appearance of the scientist.

'**The conductor must be complete for our plan to succeed.**'

He looks suitably agitated as he hurries to walk beside Caan.

'Unemployment is such an incentive. It'll get done, don't worry.'

Caan keeps his eyestalk facing forwards as he moves to stare over the cityscape before him. '**Daleks have no concept of worry.**'

The servos within my own headpiece whirr. A mechanical sigh. Caan does have a tendency to take statements far too literally.

Diagoras halts and stands beside him, scrutinizing his travel unit with something akin to envy. 'Yeah? Well…lucky you.'

Caan slowly moves his headpiece to pan over the view of New York, and behind it, the golden-yellow disc of Sol as it sets over the horizon. A most impressive sight.

'**This day is ending. Humankind is weak – you shelter from the dark.**'

Diagoras also studies the view, his eyes clouded by thought.

'**And yet, you have built all this.**'

Is that admiration I hear within his tone?

Diagoras nods.

'That's progress. You gotta move with the times, or you get left behind.'

Caan moves his gaze back to the patch of vegetation in front of the building. Central Park. A small portion of natural life amidst the grey steel of the city.

His vocal unit is softer, reflective.

'**My planet is gone, destroyed in a great war. Yet versions of this city stand throughout history. The human race _always_ continues.**'

I do not miss the sardonic edge to his voice.

Nor do I miss the longing in his tone.

* * *

I too hold the innate, unspoken, illogical desire to return to the planet upon which I was hatched.

To stand once more at the foot of the steel tower of the Citadel.

To see the red clouds above, swollen with acid rain as they move across the super-continent of Darran. (1)

To feel the wind, choked with radioactive fallout, as it surrounds my travel unit, providing me with power and life.

The name of my planet simply translated as 'home' in the ancient Kaled language. Ironic, now that the Kaleds are extinct, that their home, their _skaro_, lived on for so many millennia after the conflict against the Thals.

And now the once noble planet of Skaro is nothing more than a lifeless husk orbiting a long-dead sun.

This was all the fault of the Time Lords.

The actions of the Ka-Faraq Gatri had brought us to this.

That was what I had thought at the time.

But now…I feel we had earned that reprisal. We had _deserved_ it in some crude way.

Not through the actions of the Doctor, but by our own means. Our need for genetic purity, the uncompromising devotion to Dalek supremacy…

We are the last four Daleks in existence. If we are meant to be the greatest race in the universe, how is it that we cannot survive where other species flourish?

* * *

Diagoras frowns as he processes the knowledge which Caan denies himself to think.

'We've had wars. I've been a soldier myself…and I swore then I'd survive, no matter what.'

I have, since our arrival on Earth, studied the history of the period known as the First World War, and I do not doubt the sincerity behind his words.

Neither does Caan. He now studies the male with a scientific curiosity.

'**You have rare ambition.**'

He sighs. 'I wanna run this city. Whatever it takes. By any means necessary.'

'**You think like a Dalek.**'

'I'll take that as a compliment.'

Jast and Thay gather behind me as his words filter through the audio receivers.

I activate my communications device. '**This human is our best option. Bring him to me.**'

On the monitor, Caan keeps his eyestalk focussed on Diagoras as he receives his orders. '**Your loyalty will be rewarded. Come with me.**'

The human smirks as he accompanies Caan to the elevator.

* * *

He displays the emotion known as arrogance.

I am curious as to what the experience of _feeling_ arrogance will be like.

I sense Thay and Jast behind me, watching the figures of Diagoras and Caan on the monitor before me. '**Prepare the laboratory. The Final Experiment will begin.**'

'**We obey.**'

Thay and Jast move purposefully to their respective workstations as I continue to watch.

I am not naïve. I am fully aware that I will begin to feel human emotions within minutes of the completion of the evolutionary process, and the strength of these emotions may overwhelm me.

But I am strong. I am a Dalek. I will survive.

In what shape or form however, I can only speculate.

The elevator doors slide open, Caan and Diagoras both moving out of the tiny compartment and into the laboratory. Caan glides forward with no discernable hesitation. Diagoras stays close to Caan, his expression curious and yet cautious as he pulls a pair of black leather gloves over his hands.

The Pig Slaves move to watch him, their tiny minds attracted to the movements of the unexpected visitor. Diagoras keeps moving, not daring to meet their gaze.

He knows only too well what the Slaves were in their previous lives.

And then he halts before me, staring at me with no small amount of apprehension. Until he is more aware of my strengths and abilities, he appears to favour compliance as the best course of action.

Caan moves to stand behind Diagoras.

'**I bring you the human.**'

Diagoras is understandably cautious as he speaks.

'I take it…you're in charge?'

'**Correct. I am Dalek Sec, leader of the Cult of Skaro.**'

Thay and Jast move away from their respective workstations to flank me in a show of both unity and intimidation.

'Then, my lord Sec, I am honoured to meet you. Ever since you first made contact with me, transmitting your thoughts into the corners of my mind, tempting me with such images, such ideas…oh sir, I'd always dreamed that the day…'

Do all humans talk as much as him? I am growing tired of his prattling tongue.

'**Cease talking.**'

He looks abashed, but it does not stop his chatter for long.

'I-I just wanted to let you know how grateful I am…'

Can these humans not follow a simple request for silence?

'**I said, _cease_!**'

Finally, he stops talking.

'**Slaves, secure the human.**'

He glances around in panic as the Slaves close in on his position.

'But you don't need to do that! I'm on your side! I worked with you; I'm your partner…!'

His words turn rapidly into snarling litany as the Slaves forcibly restrain him, grasping his flailing limbs and creasing his suit.

No matter. As long as he is present, somewhat restrained, and all goes according to plan, then all will be well.

* * *

My organic body jolts in pain as Jast injects yet another syringe of hormone solution directly into my circulatory systems.

I was aware that humans need a vast mixture of hormones and nutrients within their bodies in order to grow healthy and strong, but this…

Melatonin, serotonin, thyroxine, dopamine, gastrin, growth hormones, oxytocin, testosterone – I have had so many chemicals injected into my body over the past hour that I feel somewhat nauseous. But they will be necessary to complete the process.

If my body contains enough human hormones and can mimic the chemical conditions within the human body, the fusion between Dalek and human physiology will be easier. The process can be measured more accurately and safely, and I will be less likely to perish during the fusion.

I cannot deny that the thought of death is unsettling. But perhaps the hormones are to blame for my current frame of mind. If nothing else, I consider this to be practice for adapting to human emotions, illogical and insane as they are.

Jast turns away and moves towards his workstation as a timing mechanism sounds.

'**The chromatin solution is ready.**'

I move forward into the dim light of the laboratory as Diagoras continues his vain struggles against the brute strength of the Pig Slaves.

'**Then our preparations are complete.**'

Diagoras stops struggling for a moment.

'What are you doing? Preparations for what?'

I move forward, in mimicry of a great hunting beast about to leap upon its prey. '**This is the Final Experiment.**'

He stares around him in growing horror, the Slaves scuffing their feet against the ground, snorting gently as they study his every movement.

'Whaddya mean? D'you mean…like these pig-men things? You're not gonna turn me into one of those?! Oh God, please don't!!'

I ignore his outburst. '**The Pig Slaves are primitive. The Final Experiment is greater by far.**'

I move back into the shadows of the battle computer. Diagoras looks baffled. Fortunately he does not notice Thay and Jast closing their ranks beside him. 'But how does that involve me?'

I turn and stare at him. '**We need your flesh. Bring him to me!**'

Instead of heeding my orders, my brethren move to stand before me, blocking the path of the Slaves.

I stare at them for barely a rel. Why do they not obey me?

Thay is the first to speak. '**Halt. This action contradicts the Dalek imperative!**'

If I had either the time or the ability, I would strangle Thay for his impudence. And I am growing weary of this argument.

Jast is quick to add his own input. '**Daleks are supreme, humans are weak!**'

Ah. The old rhetoric, programmed into our neural systems for thousands of years, and designed by the Emperor Davros himself. Under most circumstances, I too would cite the programming as religious scripture, as the humans would cite the Bible or the Koran.

But now…

The circumstances are very different. Not one member of our race foresaw this chain of events. And we must adapt as quickly as possible if we are to survive.

I study each of them in turn, keeping my impatience in check.

'**But there are millions of humans and only four of us. If we are supreme, why are we not victorious?**'

Thay and Jast share a look as Diagoras cringes before me. They have no answer to that question.

'**The Cult of Skaro was created by the Emperor for this very purpose; to imagine new ways of survival!**'

Caan and Jast choose to stay silent. Thay however is starting to shake, his programming warring with his loyalty, both as a soldier, and as my brother.

'**But we must remain _pure_!**'

I turn slightly and study my brother.

* * *

Dalek Thay.

The youngest of the Cult of Skaro.

The greatest Dalek warrior in the Empire.

My excitable, brash, ever-loyal younger brother.

Thay was the last to question my plan when it was first proposed, and the first to offer his help in order to bring the plan to fruition. He willingly gave several strips of dalekanium from the base of his travel unit to be placed on the mast of the Empire State Building.

I had watched with a strange sense of fear and disgust throughout the entire operation as the metal was removed. We could not disconnect his body from the travel unit, and deactivating the unit would also disconnect his life support systems.

Even the strongest human anaesthetics of the time could not sedate him entirely, and so he had screamed in agony until his vocal unit had fused. Even then his cries still permeated the lab as the weakened vocal cords within his body were used for the first time in millennia.

I remember silently thanking the old Kaled gods for their mercy when Thay finally fell into unconsciousness. At least he did not have to suffer as fresh steel plates were grafted onto his travel unit.

Therefore I am unsurprised at the…compassion present in my voice as I speak.

'**No, Dalek Thay, our purity has brought us to extinction. We must adapt to survive. You have all made sacrifices, and now I will sacrifice myself for the greater cause. For the future of Dalek-kind. Now _bring me the human_!**'

Diagoras wails in terror as his body is pitched forwards. 'But I don't understand!! Whaddya mean?! Get offa me!!'

I prepare to disengage the locks on my travel unit.

'**Behold the _true_ Dalek form.**'

Diagoras watches in horror as my travel unit hisses before sliding apart to reveal my organic body, so unlike his. My body is a healthy shade of green, instead of the varying shades of beige and brown that makes the humans so recognizable. My limbs twitch at the sensation of air against my flesh for the first time in so many thousands of years.

'**Now…join with me!**'

Diagoras stops staring at me and resumes his fight against the Pig Slaves. 'No!! Get off me!! I did everything you asked of me!! _NO_!!'

My limbs rise and fall, much like those of the Terran octopus, as they envelop his body and pull it into my travel casing. My mouth opens for the first time in years as I pull him towards me and swallow him headfirst, engulfing him within my body.

The last sound I hear is that of the locks on my travel unit re-engaging, covering both of us in darkness as the absorption process begins…

And then I _scream_.

* * *

This…is…**_agony_**…

I can…_feel_…so many sensations. So many…_emotions_…

He is afraid. Who…would not be…?

I tighten my limbs around his body and pull him closer to me in an action I suddenly recognise as an embrace.

This is a human ritual. One that is foreign to me…and yet brings me something approaching comfort.

A tiny eye of calm amidst the hurricane of my evolution.

Does it comfort him, I wonder, to know that I am in as much pain as he? That if there was another way, I would have gladly taken it?

Another searing bolt of pain lances through my body as my brain begins to swell…

Cannot…focus…need…help…where…my brothers…?

They…there?

They…not leave me…?

Can…feel them…watch me…

Jast…he…concerned…scared…for me…

Caan…he…not worried…but anxious…concerned…for Cult…

Thay…he…_terrified_…never…see me…like this…hates…to see…brother…hurting…

My limbs spasm and tighten. In the darkness and pain, I can see then shrink…twitching as they form into a strange pair of limbs, smaller appendages curling at the end of a larger limb…

My hands.

I have hands. Fingers. Palms…

I can touch. Feel. Hold…

A new spasm of agony takes hold…steam and smoke billows from my travel unit as I curl my body tightly into a fetal position.

Thay is the first to speak, his voice acting like a beacon of sanity to me.

'**Stop the process! Dalek Sec is failing!**'

The fear in his voice both scares me and comforts me. But even my concern for my brother is not enough to make me stop the evolution.

'**No…!! The…experiment must continue…!! Administer the solution!!**'

I attempt not to retch after I speak.

'**We must evolve!! Evolve!! _Evolve…_!!**'

Those words cost me a great amount of energy.

Jast advances, a syringe in his grasp and concern in his optic lens.

I barely feel the needle as it enters my body. It is but another lash of pain to my already agonized flesh.

This, fortunately, is the last injection I will need in order to complete the process.

Now…I can only rely on the strength of my body and the ministrations of Jast as he watches over me.

* * *

I can just about hear Caan and Thay returning to the lab. Footsteps echo on the concrete - human footsteps.

More participants for the Final Experiment.

I close my eye in pain as my spine cracks, the bones shifting under the muscles as I try to move into a more comfortable position within my travel unit.

I hear Caan speak as he moves to stand with Thay and Jast.

'**Report.**'

Jast does not move from my side. '**Dalek Sec is entering the final stage of evolution.**'

I can hear the distaste in his tone at the word, 'evolution.'

Caan does not pay any attention to the tone of his comrade. '**Scan him. Prepare for birth.**'

Birth.

Do all beings experience the pain I have felt when they are born? Surely not.

A final, horrific burst of pain…and suddenly peace.

I can hear someone speaking…a human female.

'Daleks! I demand to be told. What is this Final Experiment? Report!'

Impressive. She can mimic the inflections of a Dalek speech pattern perfectly. This does not go unnoticed by the other members of the Cult. I can hear Jast move as he turns to face the human. '**You will bear witness.**'

'To what?'

'**This is the dawn of a new age.**'

The human sounds…terrified. 'What does that mean?'

Jast sounds triumphant as he turns back to study my travel unit. '**We are the only four Daleks in existence. So the species must evolve. A life outside the shell. The children of Skaro must walk again!**'

* * *

And then I feel it.

System deactivation.

My travel unit powers down. The life support system quietly fails as it is disconnected from my body, along with my battle computer and weaponry.

My eye-stalk, weapon-stalk and manipulator stalk lower and fall to rest forever.

Thay, Jast and Caan stand before me, waiting in anticipation.

And I do not wish to cause my brethren any more concern.

My travel unit hisses once again as the locks disengage, shedding the first rays of light on my new form.

I grasp the sides of my travel unit with both hands as I slowly pull myself out of the tiny space, my body forced to crouch in a most undignified fashion.

I note with relief that I am wearing Diagoras' suit and shoes. Nudity is a particularly sensitive taboo on this planet, and I do not wish to flout it so early in my new life.

Blinking slowly, I stagger out of my travel unit and straighten my body into an upright position.

* * *

Air.

Warmth.

Light.

So many new sensations.

I draw a deep breath of air into my lungs as I tilt my head back, stretching the cramped muscles in my neck.

My fingers splay as I spread my hands out by my sides, nerve endings tingling as the skin stretches over my knuckles and palms.

I cannot see my face, but I can feel some of my features.

A single eye. A mouth. A fringe of stunted appendages at the sides of my skull, covering my ears and twitching as I move my head.

And my voice?

I speak the first words that enter my mind as Thay, Jast and Caan back away from me in horror.

'**I...am...a human...Dalek...I..._am your future!_**'

* * *

TBC

(1) I can't remember where I found this out, but the continent of Darran was mentioned in a few of the novels. Otherwise, pretty much all of the info about Skaro comes from Wikipedia and the classic series.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So…I've bawled at eight episodes of Series 3. Does this make me a soft touch?

* * *

Disclaimer: If I owned Dalek Sec, he would've lived a lot longer than he did. Sadly I don't since the BBC, Russell T. Davies and Terry Nation own Doctor Who and the Daleks. The Knights Tempus and my own character are mentioned in passing. Swipe them, and you suffer and die.

Warnings: Same as Part 1, but with some angsting from Sec about love and humanity. I love this guy, bless him.

NB: Sec's voice will still be in bold – he's enough of a Dalek for me.

* * *

**Gambit: Part 2**

* * *

A Human Dalek.

Not born of one world or the other. Instead, I am something fresh, something new.

Something…different.

I raise my hand and gesture towards the humans, standing in a frightened line before me.

'**These humans will become like me. Prepare them for hybridisation.**'

The Pig Slaves lurch out from behind the multitudes of monitors and equipment, gathering the humans into a tight group, their hands grabbing crudely at the various trembling limbs.

Jast, Thay and Caan turn to watch the process, all hesitantly moving their eyestalks away from me as I move forward, placing one foot shakily in front of the other.

I may not be Dalek in appearance, but I am still one of them in my mind. Whether or not they can adjust to this will be up to them. I know from experience that overriding their programming while still in their original forms will not be easy.

But they are strong. They will persevere.

A sudden burst of curiously melodic noise fills the laboratory, overpowering the sounds and screams of the human captives.

What…?

What is it?

I turn frantically, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. '**What is that sound?!**'

Instinctively flinching, I move to stand with my brethren. They encircle me, ready to protect me from any enemy fire.

'Ah, well, now, that would be _me_.'

I turn and stare at the human emerging from behind one of the monitors.

…No.

_Not_ human.

_Never_ human.

This is not possible.

It cannot be…

'Hello. Surprise. Boo. Etcetera.'

I recoil in shock.

A tall, lean being with dark hair and dark eyes, a superior smirk on his face as he strides nonchalantly towards us.

'**_Doctor?!_**'

The Ka-Faraq Gatri.

The killer of his own men.

Caan studies the Time Lord with anger and recognition. '**The enemy of the Daleks!**'

Jast is quick to make his intentions known. '**EX-TER-MI-NATE!!**'

What?! No!!

I raise my hand to block Jast and Caan as they move forward.

'**Wait!**'

My brethren stare at me in shock. I have prevented them from killing the Doctor, the greatest enemy of the Daleks.

For now, at least.

But…how did he survive…?

A foolish question. He is like the Terran cockroach, the only creature which is capable of surviving a nuclear blast. And having dwelled in the sewers of New York for so long, I have become well acquainted with these insectoid pests.

The Doctor stands before me, his gaze cynical and dark.

He slowly walks forward, studying my face. 'Well then. A new form of Dalek. Fascinating.'

He glares at me now. 'And _very_ clever.'

I return his glare with equal, if not greater force as my facial appendages quiver and twitch in anger.

'**The Cult of Skaro escaped your _slaughter_!!**'

He sneers. 'How did you end up in 1930?'

'**Emergency temporal shift.**'

* * *

I do not need to tell him that we did not escape here directly.

I am thankful, although I did not ever say it, to the other who aided us.

The one who found us floating injured in space on the dark side of the moon. Who interrogated us, and then repaired us, her own loneliness overcoming her ingrained hatred of my people.

With the repairs complete, she forcibly ejected us from her TARDIS, gifting Thay, Jast and Caan each with a vicious sneer as they departed. For me, she offered a brief, cynical smile, and a word of farewell.

Too much history exists between the Cult of Skaro and the Knights Tempus for any of us to ignore, and yet there is too much to remember without pain and sorrow.

And still she tended to us, treating us somewhat as equals.

If I ever encounter the Lady Kalitharian again, I will thank her for her actions.

Hopefully then, I will find out her motivations for aiding us.

But until then…

* * *

The Doctor guffaws loudly at my words and glances at my brothers.

'Ohooo! That must've _roasted_ up your power cells, eh?'

He turns and walks slowly away from me, scratching at one of his ears.

'Time was, four Daleks could've conquered the world. But instead you're skulking away…'

He stares upwards at the power cables leading to the ceiling of the laboratory. Hopefully he cannot see the Shells, veiled safely within the shadows.

'…Hidden in the dark, _experimenting_…'

The disgust in his tone is obvious.

'…All of which results in _you_.'

I do not like the circumstances any more than you do, Doctor.

Do you think we enjoy this existence? Living in the catacombs of the sewers, hiding amidst the dark and the filth, scavenging what we can in order to survive? We lived like the _humans_ for so long until we had managed to perfect the cloning technology, developing the Pig Slaves to hunt out our supplies while we began the work for the Final Experiment.

The four greatest minds in the Dalek Empire reduced to living in human excrement and squalor.

I was prepared, as were my brethren, to do everything possible to escape that horror, to restore the glory of the Daleks.

And now, the end is in sight.

For I will be greater than the Dalek and humans combined.

'**I am Dalek in human form!**'

He stares at me, tilting his head in a strange gesture.

'But what does it _feel_ like?'

I can feel my expression crease into a frown of confusion as I process his words. The Doctor strides up to me, meeting my gaze.

'You can talk to me, Dalek Sec; it _is_ Dalek Sec, isn't it? That's your name?'

I am somewhat honoured that he remembers me.

'You've got a _name_, and a mind of your own. Tell me what you're thinking, right now.'

I struggle to find the words. This body, these thoughts, these emotions…how do the humans cope with such influxes of information?

And the Time Lords…their body functions were not dissimilar to those of the humans. If anyone can understand, it will be the Doctor.

'**…I…feel…**'

I turn away, overcome by the surge of emotions. Fear, uncertainty, anxiety, stress…

'**…Humanity.**'

The Doctor's voice behind me is softer, compassionate, and curious. 'Good. That's good.'

I let my eye slide out of focus as I reflect a little more.

'**I…feel…everything we wanted from mankind. Which is…**'

I turn back to face him, meeting his gaze with mine.

'**Ambition.**** Hatred. Aggression. And war.**'

My hands clench involuntarily into fists. '**Such a _genius_ for war!**'

The Doctor shakes his head, his eyes now concerned.

'No. That's not what humanity means.'

'**I think it does.**'

I move closer to the Time Lord before me.

'**At heart, this species is so very…_Dalek_.**'

He spins away in angry disgust before meeting the gazes of Thay, Jast and Caan.

'Alright, so what have you achieved then, with this 'Final Experiment', eh? _Nothing_! 'Cos I can show you what you're missing, with this thing.'

He points at each of us in turn, and then pats a small brown device sitting next to one of the monitors.

'A simple little radio.'

A _radio_. I have heard mention of this technology. A crude one-way communications device, capable of transmitting information in the form of sound waves. The humans have a great liking for it as a means of entertainment, and the technology behind the construction is crude, but cheap and relatively simple to manufacture.

Caan stares at the radio, and then at the Doctor, his scientific curiosity piqued. '**What is the purpose of that device?**'

The Doctor sneers, his tone filled with spite.

'Well exactly. It plays music. What's the point of that?'

His expression changes as he stares at Caan.

'Oh, with music, you can dance to it…'

He meets Jast's gaze.

'Sing with it…'

He turns to study Thay.

'…Fall in love to it.'

Only I notice as Thay's optic lens widens.

'Unless you're a Dalek of course. Then it's all just…'

He dips a hand into his jacket and pulls out the device I recognise as a sonic screwdriver. Before any of us has the chance to react, he levels the device at the radio and activates it.

'…_Noise_!!'

A wave of shrill sound I somehow identify as feedback echoes harshly through the laboratory, entering my ears so loudly that I clamp my eye shut and screech in pain.

Thay, Jast and Caan all howl as the noise enters their audio receivers, with no means of deactivating their processors.

'**Protect the hybrid!!**'

Through the pain, I can just make out the sounds of the Doctor ordering the humans to flee, and my brethren surrounding me on Caan's orders.

'**Protect!! Protect!!**'

After what seems to me to be an eternity, the device falls to the floor. I glance up and see Caan's weapon-stalk smoking slightly.

Well done, my old friend.

I straighten up, embarrassed that I cowered like a new-spawned hatchling simply because of a noise.

But _such_ a noise…

Caan turns to focus on me as I stand.

'**Report status.**'

I do not turn to meet his gaze. Not because of my embarrassment, but because of the sensations the noise produced. It was…astounding.

'**…Pain…Pain of the flesh…like no Dalek has felt for thousands of years.**'

Caan does not seem interested in my current emotional state.

'**The Doctor has escaped!**'

I turn and study my brethren, all of them eager for orders.

'**Then find him!! _Find him_!!**'

I turn away, panting slightly as the last of the pain leaves my body, listening as Caan moves to locate the Pig Slaves.

'**Find the Doctor! The prisoners must be recaptured!**'

He and Jast both depart with a squad of Slaves while Thay moves to his workstation, leaving me to study the battle computer and gain some control over my emotions.

* * *

I stretch my right hand out and study it, satisfied that the fine trembling that initially plagued my movements has vanished.

So frail, these beings.

So vulnerable.

I slowly bend my fingers, marvelling at the fluidity of the movement. Curling and uncurling, much like my original limbs, but strengthened with bone and a nervous system so responsive that it overwhelms me.

I cautiously stroke a fingertip across the back of my left hand, amazed at the sheer novelty of touch.

I blink, feeling my eyelid close and covering my eyeball with optical fluid.

I remember studying this form and mentally ridiculing the act of nature which could create such a powerful optical system out of water and jelly.

Building an eye.

The humans can do this without even knowing it occurs. The eye develops while the human is in utero, woven into the body with all of the other organs, tissue, and cells necessary for survival. At the smallest level, the cells are created for a specific purpose. They are not intelligent in themselves, but they fulfil their functions and aid in building a new human, a new life.

How could we have underestimated the power of natural evolution?

I turn and cast a speculative glance over the laboratory. Thay is busy, and I will not willingly disturb him while he carries out my orders.

Wait…

What is that…?

I bend down and pick up the damaged casing of the radio unit from where it lies on the floors, its innards charred, spilling over the concrete.

Such a strange device.

The substance is cool and smooth under my fingers. Plastic. A revolutionary new substance at this point in Terran history.

The radio serves no useful purpose, and yet I am intrigued.

It plays music.

The Doctor told us that music holds emotional power. A noise that can aid in the creation of the emotional and mental state known to the humans as love.

I am aware that within that emotion, there are different facets of love. The love between friends, the love between family, the love between a parent and child, the love for another being, and even more beyond that.

No Dalek has ever felt love.

But now…

I turn the casing over in my hands, tracing the edging and dials with my fingers.

Love, so much like music, serves no purpose for a Dalek. It has no function except as a form of emotional enjoyment.

But I am a Human Dalek. Would this radio now serve a purpose for me?

Therefore, would I be able to feel love?

To feel specific emotions for specific beings? For Thay, Jast and Caan?

I stare at the doorway, frowning slightly.

They must find the Doctor.

If there would be any way that I could understand and accept these emotions, the Doctor would know. He has lived for centuries.

He understands the strength of love.

My frown deepens at a sudden thought.

I saw no sign of Rose Tyler in that line. She was not unintelligent; she would have found a way to stand with the Doctor.

Provided that she had survived the Battle of Canary Wharf.

But if she did not…

My heart begins to beat faster as I reflect upon this thought.

She must have been lost in the battle. The same battle in which I lost the rest of my people. The same battle in which I nearly lost Thay, Jast and Caan.

I remember the panic and grief I had felt when I had first believed my brethren to be dead.  
The feelings of loneliness and emptiness when I could no longer hear their thoughts.  
The sense of being ready to beg for death, if only so that I would be alone no longer.  
And then the surge of elation when I sensed them once again, my limbs shaking in relief.

The Doctor did not get the chance to experience that same feeling of relief.

And for that, I do hold profound sympathy for him.

Even sorrow that he should experience it.

For as long as I have the Cult, I will never be alone.

* * *

The transmitter beeps.

Caan, Jast and the Pig Slaves have located the prisoners, and I hope, the Doctor along with them.

I stand quietly behind Thay. '**Establish visual contact.**'

The monitor flickers as it forms into the standard Dalek viewscreen. I turn, Thay beside me, and watch as Caan hovers above a bedraggled group of humans.

The Hooverville in Central Park, as I understand it. The location where the Pig Slaves have been recruiting new slaves and subjects for the Final Experiment.

'**Commence the attack.**'

Caan is quick to lead. He fires upon one of the numerous ramshackle dwellings, sending it heavenward into a ball of flames. Jast follows in his wake, taking aim at the humans below.

I follow Caan's transmission as he swoops over the Hooverville, explosions littering his path. Occasionally Jast will soar past in a flash of burnished bronze metal, his aim as true as ever.

Caan finally hovers above the group and stares down at them.

'**The humans will surrender!**'

One figure stands before the group.

'Leave them alone, they've done nothing to you!!'

Caan's visual link flickers, and zooms in on the Doctor's face.

Thay sounds almost gleeful as he watches the screen. '**We have located the Doctor!**'

I cannot help but feel relieved. He lives on. He can still be of help to us…

But what is this…?

Another human, dark-skinned and armed with a primitive hunting rifle, moves to stand apart from the group, his features and movements cautious. The Doctor notices and is quick to intercept him.

He grabs the human and attempts to wrest the gun away from him. '_No_!! Solomon, stay back!!'

The human, Solomon, stands firm and shrugs the Doctor off his back.

He stares at Caan, seemingly undaunted. Impressive.

'I'm told…I'm addressing the Daleks, is that right?'

Few humans have ever displayed this kind of bravery in battle.

I tilt my head towards Thay, who now watches the screen with confusion.

'**Observe humanity. For all their faults, they have…such courage.**'

Solomon continues to speak.

'From what I hear, you're outcasts too.'

The Doctor looks concerned, and angry. 'Solomon, _don't_!'

The human barely acknowledges the Time Lord's presence. 'Doctor, this is _my_ township, you will respect _my_ authority. Just let me try.'

I move closer to the screen. It is rather strange to admit it, but I am curious as to what the human has to say.

He stands tall, proud, and unflinching as he spreads his hands in a gesture of peace.

'Daleks…ain't we the same? Underneath…ain't we all kin?'

He holds a hand out in front of him, the palm facing towards Caan. Do not attack him, my brother, he means no harm.

The rifle falls to rest in the mud as he sets it down beside him.

'See, I just discovered this past day that God's universe is a thousand times the size I thought it was. And that scares me. Oh yeah. _Terrifies_ me. Right down to the bone.'

The Doctor's gaze flickers back and forth between Solomon and Caan.

'But surely it's got to give me hope. Hope that, maybe together, we can make a better tomorrow. So I beg you now…if you have any compassion in your hearts, then you'll meet with us and stop this fight!!'

Caan makes no movement.

Solomon drops his hands slightly, and gazes up with hope in his eyes.

'Well? Whaddya say?'

* * *

I can hear the derision in Caan's voice as he speaks.

'**EX-TER-MI-NATE!!**'

The blast bathes Solomon's body in a horrific green glow, his skeleton a darker green shadow as his organs are forcibly rearranged within his body.

I see him scream in agony as the life leaves his eyes.

And I gasp in horror.

No…_no_!! It was not bloodshed I wanted!!

Thay turns to look at me. He heard my gasp.

How can I explain?

This form; it has changed my perception on warfare. Now, to see a living being die so painfully, so needlessly…I feel suddenly nauseous.

He wished for peace, not suffering. I would have granted it willingly.

Another movement brings my attention back to the scene before me.

The Doctor now stands in Solomon's place, his eyes bright with anger and helpless grief. He flings his arms out, hands clenched tightly into fists.

'Alright, so it's my turn!! Then _kill me_!! _Kill me_ if it'll stop you attacking these people!!'

Caan speaks with delight in his voice. '**I will be the destroyer of our greatest enemy!!**'

The Doctor does not back down.

'Then do it!! Do it!! Just do it!! DO IT!!'

I can hear Caan's weapon-stalk powering up for another deadly blast.

'**EX-TER-MI-NA--!!**'

* * *

'**Stop!!**** I command you, stop!!**'

I raise my hand above my head as I speak. Caan will listen to me. He will _listen_!

Thay stares at me again. I can feel his confusion building.

_…Brother?..._

Caan is equally as confused.

'**I do not understand. It is the _Doctor_.**'

I know, Caan. That will _not_ change my mind.

'**But I want him alive.**'

Caan's eyestalk begins to quiver as he speaks.

'**The urge to kill is too _strong_!**'

There is a human word, used to describe a vocal tone which many young humans will use in arguments with their elders when the discussion is not proceeding in their favour.

Whining.

I have more sense than to accuse Caan of whining, however.

'**I have decided. The Doctor must live, and you will obey me!**'

I am still the leader of the Cult. Caan will not disobey a direct order. It is not the Dalek way.

Caan powers down his weapon and glares at the Doctor. '**I…obey.**'

He sounds most displeased. But I have no time for defiance from my second-in-command.

The Doctor looks angry and confused. 'What's going on?'

I stare at the screen.

'**Bring him to me.**'

Caan relays my orders.

'**You will follow.**'

* * *

'No!!'

A small human female, dark-skinned…the same female who questioned Jast in the laboratory, runs to stand behind the Doctor.

'You can't go!'

I take a moment to study her. Her style of clothing alone marks her as a non-native. The type of clothing…she is not a resident of this time period.

It makes sense now.

She is the latest companion of the Doctor. Rose Tyler's replacement.

She speaks quietly to the Doctor, gesturing towards the group of cold, frightened humans behind them with tears in her eyes.

The Doctor stares at the group for a moment, and then turns back to Caan with deepest distrust in his eyes.

'One condition!! If I come with you, you spare the lives of _everyone_ here!! D'you hear me?!'

I nod my agreement. '**Obey the Doctor.**'

Caan now sounds as if he is on the verge of a systems error.

'**Humans will be spared. Doctor…follow.**'

The Doctor exchanges a few more words with the human female, shakes her hand briefly, and then moves to follow Jast and Caan.

Caan turns away from the Time Lord in utter disgust and confusion. Jast watches in silence, no doubt just as perplexed as Caan.

Thay turns from staring at the viewscreen and stares at me, curious and frightened.

I do not like it when Thay is frightened. It causes me great distress.

'**You saved the Doctor. Why?**'

He does not question the rhetoric of the Daleks in order to preserve his life, but Thay will question _me_ if he is uncertain of something. As his commanding officer and elder sibling, I have the responsibility to look after him and answer his queries.

I hold back a small smile as I let this thought pass through my mind. I do admit that sometimes I see my brother as an innocent, inquisitive little hatchling. This is one of those times.

I turn and meet his bright blue gaze with my own.

'**…He's a genius, and we can use him. The future of the Daleks might well depend upon the Doctor.**'

Strange. Before the evolution, I would never have considered asking a Time Lord for assistance.

But now…

Circumstances are very different. I am more accepting of new ideas, new ways of thinking.

Convincing Thay, Jast and Caan however, may take some more time.

* * *

'Those people were _defenceless_!!'

Ah. The Doctor has arrived.

I turn towards the door as he strides across the laboratory floor, his eyes blazing with righteous anger.

'You only wanted me, but no, that wasn't enough for you, you _had_ to start killing, 'cos that's the only thing a Dalek's good for!!'

I move forward, my eye half-closed in regret, my mouth set in a grim line.

'**The deaths…were wrong.**'

I stare at his face.

Incredulity, shock and confusion. All warring for space.

'…I'm sorry?'

I move forward again.

'**That man...their leader, Solomon…he showed courage.**'

The Doctor's eyes widen almost comically.

'And that's _good_?'

I hold his gaze with my own.

'**That's _excellent_.**'

He smirks in disbelief. 'Is it me, or are you becoming just a little bit more…human?'

I would think the answer to _that_ question would be obvious, Doctor.

'**You are the last of your kind, and now I am the first of mine.**'

He frowns. 'What do you want me for?'

I hold back a sigh as I move past him towards a lab table, drawn to the colours of the chemicals inside the test-tubes and pipettes.

'**…We tried everything to survive. When we found ourselves stranded in this ignorant age, first we tried growing new Dalek embryos, but their flesh was too weak.**'

* * *

I recall watching in silence as the tiny hatchlings perished before me, one by one, Jast frantically trying to stabilise their lifesigns, Caan preparing a batch of steroids in a vain attempt to bolster their systems, and Thay beside me, observing both the embryos and myself in confusion.

I saw in that moment, a scene from so many centuries past, of Thay howling in pain as the necrosis steadily ate away at his body, Jast and Caan removing the rear of my own unit, preparing to take flesh grafts in order to save my brother's life.

Like the grafts that saved Thay, the basic chromosomal structure for the embryos had been taken from my genetic material in the hope that it would be the strongest, the most likely to survive the process.

I am not sure whether those embryos would have been my brothers or my offspring.

If they had survived…

Either option is now too painful to contemplate.

* * *

The Doctor does not see my distress. He folds his arms across his thin chest and glares at me.

'Yeah, I found one of your experiments, just left to die out there in the dark.'

I blink, clearing the extra optical fluid and peculiar burning sensation from my eye, and stare at the table before me.

'**It forced us to conclude; what is the greatest resource of this planet? Its people.**'

The control panel is hidden against the side of a pillar. The switch for the generator pulls up easily, and lights flicker on above our heads.

The Doctor looks up with scientific curiosity, and then glances back at me. I pull at another switch, and watch as one pallet descends from the ceiling, tubing and IV lines threaded under the plain white sheets.

'**We stole them. We stole human beings for our purpose.**'

His gaze is almost painful to see. I turn my gaze to the being within the sheets.

'**Look inside.**' I gesture with a hand.

The Doctor glances down, back to me for a second, and then he turns his full attention to the sheets.

An adult human male lies in peaceful repose beneath the sheets, his features serene, and his skin as pale as marble.

But what is inside his brain…

'**This is the true extent of the Final Experiment.**'

The Doctor looks up at me, his expression unreadable. 'Is he dead?'

'**Near death.**** With his mind wiped…**'

I gently place a hand against the human's skull, tracing the shape of his head.

'**…Ready to be filled with new ideas.**'

Another inscrutable look. 'Dalek ideas.'

I look at him, my eye wide. '**The Human Dalek Race.**'

He stares up at the ceiling, his eyes flickering over the expanse, taking stock of the Shells.

'All of these people…how many?'

'**We have caverns beyond this, storing more than a thousand.**'

His gaze becomes unnerved. 'Is there any way to restore them, to make them human again?'

'**Everything that they were has been lost.**'

Regrettable, but necessary.

He begins to understand. 'So they're like shells. You've got empty human beings ready to be converted. That's gonna take a hell of a lot of power. This planet hasn't even split the atom yet; how are you gonna do it?'

I gesture to Caan and Jast, watching over us like squat bronze sentinels, their gazes unreadable.

'**Open the conductor plan.**'

The viewscreen flickers on at the opposite end of the room, the illustration of the Empire State Building slowly revolving from the base upwards.

The Doctor assumes a contemptuous expression as he studies the diagram.

'Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Empire State Building, we're right underneath that. I already worked that out, thanks. But what, you've hijacked the whole building?'

I gesture towards the screen. '**We needed an energy conductor.**'

'What for?'

I turn and stare at the youthful Time Lord beside me. '**I am the genetic template. My altered DNA was to be administered to each human body.**'

Two strands of DNA appear on the screen; one rounded and curved in the elegant double helix outline, the other sharp and jagged, molecules looking like so much razor wire.

Human and Dalek DNA.

I continue as the strands are bombarded with yellow tinted waves of radiation. '**A strong enough blast of gamma radiation can splice the Dalek and Human genetic codes and waken each body from its sleep.**'

He looks perplexed. 'Gamma radiation? But that's…'

The illustration pulls out to a schematic of the Earth and Sol, the Empire State building like a beacon atop the blue-green planet.

'Oh, the sun. You're using the _sun_.'

I nod. '**Soon, the greatest solar flare for a thousand years will hit the Earth. Gamma radiation will be drawn to the energy conductor…**'

As I speak, the diagram shifts to follow my description.

'**And when it strikes…**'

'The army wakes.'

The Time Lord turns back to me as the screen shimmers and disappears. 'I still don't know what you need me for.'

'**Your genius.**'

He looks both suitably mollified and curious.

'**Consider a pure Dalek. Intelligent but emotionless.'**

He looks thoughtful. 'Removing the emotions makes you stronger. That's what your creator thought all those years ago.'

And he would know.

For he was there, at the end of the Kaled-Thal wars. At the genesis of the Daleks. (1)

* * *

Imprisoned by the Kaled Elite, tortured and interrogated by Davros himself…I can only speculate as to what his thoughts are regarding that incident, but they would not be pleasant.

Did he know then? Was he aware that the Time Lords had made what was later to be known as the first strike of the Last Great Time War?

And was the Emperor Davros aware then, of what would happen? That he would be overthrown and imprisoned by his creations, and would finally perish at the hands of the Doctor, as Skaro was destroyed by the Hand of Omega?

We may never know, but what I do know, is this…

'**He was wrong.**'

* * *

The Doctor's eyes open wide in shock. 'He was _what_?!'

He knows that I speak sacrilege, but I continue regardless as I hold his gaze with my own.

'**It makes us lesser than our enemies. We must return to the flesh, and also the heart.**'

I clench my fist above my own heart, and feel it beating steady and strong.

'You wouldn't be the supreme beings anymore.'

I smile slightly. '**And that is good.**'

'**That is incorrect!**'

Ah. Apparently Caan feels it is time to add his opinion to the discussion.

Jast is quick to follow his lead. '**Daleks are supreme!**'

I turn and stare at them. '**No! Not any more!**'

Caan's distress is palpable. '**But that is our purpose!**'

'**Then our purpose is _wrong_!**'

They fall silent in astonishment. I press my advantage.

'**Where has our quest for supremacy led us? To this. Hiding in the sewers on a primitive world.'**

I cast my gaze over the Cult. '**Just four of us left. If we do not change now, then we deserve extinction.**'

The Doctor is concerned now. I can see by the look in his eyes, he believes me to be insane.

'So you want to change everything that makes a Dalek a Dalek?'

'**If you can help me.**'

* * *

Please, Doctor.

I cannot do this by myself.

Please help me.

Help us.

We walk quietly back down the laboratory towards the Shell, resting safely within its sheets and tubing.

'**Your knowledge of genetic engineering is even greater than ours. The new race must be ready by the time the solar flare erupts.**'

The Doctor looks sceptical.

'But you're the template. I thought they were getting a dose of you.'

'**I want to change the gene sequence.**'

'To make them even _more_ human.'

I look down at the Shell.

'**Humans are the great survivors. We need that ability.**'

He looks up at me with an expression of disbelief and shakes his head.

'Hold on a minute though, there's no way this lot--' He jerks his thumb at Thay, Jast and Caan, all milling behind him, offering surly looks. '--are gonna let you do it.'

I return their gaze in kind. Do not cross me, my brothers, for I am still the Supreme Dalek Commander Sec. I will not tolerate insubordination, not even from you.

'**I am their leader.**'

The Time Lord turns and stares at them. 'Oh, and that's enough for you, is it?'

Thay is the first to reply. '**Daleks must follow orders.**'

Jast follows in kind. '**Dalek Sec commands. We obey.**'

I notice Caan remains silent. I will have words with him later, but at this moment…

I lower my voice, pleading with the Doctor now.

'**If you don't help me, nothing will change.**'

He looks so tempted, so desperate…and yet I see his eyes clouded with doubt.

'There's no room on Earth for another race of people.'

If my knowledge of Terran history is accurate, within a few years, a dictator will come to power within Europe, claiming that there is no room within his country or indeed on Earth for a clan of humans known as the Jews, solely and illogically because of their choice of religion.

Once, I would have applauded the ideals of Adolf Hitler. But now…I agree with the Doctor.

I walk to stand in front of my brothers, my arms stretching out as if to encompass them all in this last terrifying gesture.

'**You have your TARDIS; take us across the stars. Find us a new home and allow the new Daleks to start again.**'

A new planet, a new home. One with challenges and promise, one with peace.

A planet where the Dalek race will have the chance to rectify their mistakes with the new generation.

A planet where we might form once more into clans, families, and know the strength gained from the love of a clan. Rectify the androgynous nature of our people, and regain our gender as I have done.

A place where our people will not be grown in laboratories as troops for eternal conquest, but conceived and born naturally from the union of a male and a female.

I have a chance…we all have a chance; the Shells, my brothers and I, if the Doctor will only help us, even though we have done nothing to deserve his aid.

_Please_, Doctor.

Behind me, Thay, Jast and Caan watch in confusion, studying myself and the Doctor as we regard each other.

The youthful Time Lord eventually speaks.

'When's that solar flare?'

I feel a burst of elation in my chest. Does he mean…?

'**Eleven minutes.**'

'…Right then! Better get to work!'

He grins suddenly, joyfully, as he darts behind me towards the chemical vats. A small burst of irritation sweeps through my thoughts as I stumble like a child behind him, my limbs still unused to brisk movements, but it is quickly smothered by growing jubilation.

He will help us.

He will help us!!

* * *

TBC

(1) I _love_ this serial, and since so much of the new series has its origins in _Genesis_…well. I couldn't resist a blatant reference.


	3. Chapter 3 and Epilogue

A/N: So much potential and RTD kills Dalek Sec in under 40 minutes. Sigh.

* * *

Disclaimer: I have a remote controlled Dalek Sec and my flatmates got me the little Hybrid Sec figure for my birthday. Sadly, I still don't own Doctor Who – all belongs to RTD, the BBC and Terry Nation.

Warnings: Same as previous chapters, except with a bit of Dalek sadism, even more angsting from Sec, and character death. Oh, and a _massive_ spoiler for The Stolen Earth/Journey's End.

* * *

**Gambit: Part 3**

* * *

Nine minutes and counting.

Nine minutes, and my people, my Dalek-Humans, will rise to claim the birthright which the Daleks first claimed as their own.

The adrenaline surges through my body as I frantically mix human growth hormones and steroids together, the Doctor standing to my right and heating a batch of chemicals over a Bunsen burner.

Jast, Thay and Caan are more sedate as they glide from bench to scanner, correlating data tracks and making final adjustments to the insulation programming for the radiation feeds.

The Doctor adds a dose of catalytic agent to a fresh batch of hormones, his eyes trained on the fusion reaction.

'There's no point in chromosomal grafting, it's too erratic. We need to split the genome and force the new Dalek-human sequence right into the cortex.'

I cease my study of a vial of pre-treated growth hormones and quickly glance up at Caan. '**We need more chromatin solution.**'

Caan gives me a look of affirmation. '**The Pig Slaves have it.**'

As if on cue, two squads of Slaves march into the lab, carrying crates of the precious solution in their misshapen hands.

The Doctor spares them a glance, and then stops beside me for a moment, keeping his voice low. 'These Pig Slaves, what happens to them in the grand plan?'

Mentally, I wince. Outwardly, I show no emotion. '**Nothing. They're just simple beasts. Their life-span is limited. None survive beyond a few weeks.**'

I make a quick gesture to Thay. '**Power up the line feeds.**'

I sense the Doctor leave my side and wander closer to one of the Slaves as if to speak to it. If there was more time, I would ask why he would choose to communicate with a being of such low intelligence, but there is less than seven minutes until the gamma strike occurs.

Seven minutes until my people are reborn.

* * *

Jast turns from his position beside the status monitors. '**The line feeds are ready.**'

The Doctor spares me a glance. 'Then it's all systems go!'

Yes…Yes! He is right! Now it is simply a matter of the radiation striking the Earth, following the pull of the conductor, and fusing the DNA strands together.

The electrical storm will then restore the electrical signals in the Shells' brains, and then my Dalek-Humans will rise.

I feel the sensation of nervousness twist my stomach as if it had been placed in a vice.

'**The solar flare is immanent!**

I turn to face the Doctor.'**The radiation will reach Earth in a matter of minutes.**'

He injects a massive syringe into the gene solution vat. 'And we'll be ready for it! That compound will allow the gene bonds to reconfigure in a brand new pattern.'

A swirl of brown fabric, and the Time Lord stands beside me, staring up at the line feeds.

'Power up!'

The Pig Slaves wrench the levers upwards.

'**Start the line feeds!**'

Thay activates the line feeds with barely a touch. Blue fluid, filled with nutrients, compounds and my adapted DNA with additional human RNA sequences, rushes through the piping, into the feeding tubes for the Shells...

The Doctor watches the progress of the fluid with caution. 'There goes the gene solution.'

I merely watch in anticipation. '**The life blood!**'

My brothers keep their gaze on the monitors, while the Slaves watch the bubbling liquid in curiosity as it tints the room with a serene blue light.

Amazing.

And somehow beautiful at the same time.

* * *

A siren.

A sound I had not expected, and never wished to hear at this stage of the process.

The Doctor turns, confused. 'What's that?'

Something is wrong, but…why do my brothers keep working? Why do they not heed the warning cry?

'**What's happening? Is there a malfunction?**'

They ignore my question and continue their work.

This I will not tolerate. '**Answer me!**'

The Doctor studies the readouts with concern, and then alarm as he tries to access the computer system. 'No no no...the gene feed! They're overriding the gene feed!'

What!?

I snap my head around to glare at them. 'Impossible! They cannot disobey orders!'

Jast is the first to turn, his eye meeting mine…and his weapon-stalk primed and aimed at the Time Lord beside him.

'**The Doctor will step away from the controls!**'

The Time Lord backs away slowly, his face tight with caution. Thay follows Jast's example as he turns...and trains his weapon-stalk upon the Doctor.

No…no!!

I turn on them, horror clouding my mind. '**STOP! You will not fire!!**'

Caan turns from his console, weapon-stalk also primed. '**He is an enemy of the Daleks...and so are you!**'

Mutiny.

This is unheard of!! They dare to disobey my orders!?

I bare my teeth in a primitive snarl as I glare at them. '**I am your commander! I am _Dalek Sec_!!**'

Caan stares at me with disgust in his gaze. '**You have lost your authority!**'

Jast keeps his distance, as if I am some form of horrific new disease. '**You are no longer a Dalek!**'

Their optics glow a cold, cruel blue as a red mist I somehow identify as rage descends over my vision.

The Doctor stares in horror as the computer screens in horror. 'What have you done? What's going into the gene feed?'

Caan's voice is filled with gloating triumph. '**The new bodies will be 100 Dalek!**'

My voice becomes an enraged hiss. '**No!! You can't do this!!**'

The sneer in Jast's voice is obvious, as is the delight with which he issues his next order.

'**Pig Slaves, restrain Dalek Sec and the Doctor.**'

One of the Slaves grabs me from behind, while another clamps its twisted hands around my wrists. Even the combined strength of a Human-Dalek is not enough to struggle free of their grasp.

I can just see the Doctor backing away from two others as I struggle. Caan watches with a disinterested gaze as I fight back.

'**Release me! I created you! I am your _master_!!**'

Another alarm sounds. Caan turns and watches the viewscreen above. '**Solar flare approaching! Prepare to intercept!**'

Thay and Jast gather beside him as an electronic chime rings from the entrance to the laboratory.

'There's the lift...'

Not the Doctor's voice.

Then who spoke?

'After you.'

_That_ is the Doctor's voice.

Then the lift...

Adrenaline rushes through my body. If there is even a chance that the Doctor can escape, then he must take it. I will survive...somehow.

I form the thought into a telepathic command.

_...Leave. Now. Go, Doctor..._

_...Sec?..._

_...GO..._

Frantic footsteps echo on the concrete as the Pig Slaves charge after the Doctor.

Caan screams a command at the backs of the Slaves. '**The Doctor is escaping! Stop him!! Stop him!!**'

* * *

Clumsy hands press hard against my shoulders, forcing me to kneel on the concrete floor. Two of the Slaves keep watch while Caan glides before me, his optic stalk fixed upon my face.

Of all the possibilities I had envisioned, prepared for, predicted...this was one I had never believed possible.

Caan. My old friend, my brother, my fellow commander...

'**You have...betrayed me!**'

Caan meets my eye, and does not deny the charge. '**You told us to imagine, and we imagined your irrelevance!**'

We...?

Jast and Thay...they were--

They conspired with him?

And they betrayed not only me, but the Cult itself.

'**I was your leader!!**'

I try to rise, but I am pressed back towards the concrete by the Slaves.

'**I am _Dalek Sec_!! Obey me!!**'

But as I am dragged backwards, and my head is slammed against the wall, I realise it is futile to fight back.

* * *

I feel the grip of the Slaves as they bind my hands and neck in chains, as they attach the chains to the wall.

I keep my head raised.

A Dalek does not show fear or pain.

But as Thay turns away from the monitor, he halts and watches as the chains are tightened. Somehow, he meets my eye with his own.

My brother.

My brash, youthful, curious, traitorous, underhanded younger brother.

I was your leader.

Your friend.

Your commander.

I loved you, my brother.

And now you have come to this.

I let my head drop as Thay turns away. The burning sensation returns to my vision and I close my eye, feeling retinal fluid leak out of my tears ducts and slipping down my face.

The feeling of betrayal...it seems to settle in my chest, next to my heart.

It forms into a ball, a tight, agonising ball which only seems to grow more painful with each thought of broken loyalty, and each tear that falls from my eye.

I did all of this for you, my brothers.

I did all of this to keep you safe, to ensure our race would survive.

If you imagined my irrelevance, then I only imagined your survival. That was what mattered to me most of all, not our ideals.

And yet, by betraying me, you have betrayed the Dalek ideals. The ideals you believed to be more important than the Cult.

More important than our survival.

More important than our brotherhood.

I choke back a sob of anger.

How did the Cult of Skaro come to this?

* * *

Caan glides forward and stares at Thay. '**Confirm time until solar intercept.**'

Thay turns away from me and returns to monitoring the timers. '**Gamma strike: four minutes and counting.**'

Jast remains silent as he overrides the seal on the lift and returns the compartment to the basement.

No doubt the Slaves will be sent to the top-most level of the Empire State building to apprehend the Doctor.

Caan's next order confirms my suspicions. I try not to choke against the iron manacle around my throat as I listen.

'**Pig Slaves will take the lift. Find the Doctor!! Kill him!!**'

I watch helplessly as the Slaves charge into the tiny compartment, eager to spill the blood of whomever they find.

* * *

Whatever deity will listen to the prayers of a Human Dalek, to the being who may control the threads of fate, I beg of you, please let the Doctor succeed.

* * *

Thay, Jast and Caan gather around the timer, their optic-stalks bright with anticipation. From my position on the floor, I can just make out the numeric characters as they stream across the screen in a steady countdown.

Jast takes over as the countdown grows shorter. '**Gamma strike imminent. In 40 rels, 39, 38, 37...**'

He activates the primary electrolyser, preparing the gene feeds to be spliced.

Doctor...

What are you _doing_?

'**...36, 35, 34, 33, 32, 31, 30...**'

I concentrate.

...Wind and rain lashing at bare skin...

...Fingers grow cold and clumsy...

'**...29, 28, 27, 26, 25...**'

...The Dalekanium is fitted tightly...

...Too tightly...

...A white instrument falls out of a freezing grip...

'**...24, 23, 22, 21, 20...**'

...The sonic screwdriver...

...No...

...What to do?...

'**...19, 18, 17, 16, 15...**'

...Can't let them wake the army...

...But can't remove the metal...

...No choice...

'**...14, 13, 12, 11, 10...**'

Jast activates the secondary electrolyser, providing enough voltage to jump-start a brain.

...Arms and legs wrap around the mast...

...No idea about survival...

'**...nine, eight, seven, six, five...**'

I feel a thread of panic wrap itself around my stomach.

He can't...

He can't!!

'**...four, three, two, one...zero! Gamma strike!**'

NO!!

* * *

Clear blue bolts of electricity dance and crackle through the laboratory, throwing light into the darkest corners and creating jagged shadows against the dull grey walls.

Jast and Thay flank Caan as he moves forward, and all of them stare upwards as the cradles carrying the Shells begin to descend.

His tone is triumphant. '**The army awakes!**'

Army...?

No.

He can't mean...

He does.

The thread of panic grows tighter.

The original plan for the Shells. To form an army capable of subduing the populace of Manhattan, to convert more humans into hybrids, and then to take over Earth.

But that plan was abandoned. I will not let my creations be used in such a manner!

And yet I am defied even further as the Shells emerge from their cocoons and fall into line.

Caan, Jast and Thay space themselves out and inspect the Dalek-Human army.

Caan moves towards one of the hybrids. '**You will identify.**'

The Dalek-Human steps forward, its face white and blank. '**I...am...a Dalek.**'

'**Excellent!**'

Thay studies each of the troops with a critical optic. '**Begin the invasion of Manhattan. The population will be converted into Daleks.**'

Jast finally speaks. '**And from this island, we will conquer the world!**'

Caan turns, gesturing towards a rack of modified Dalek-Human weaponry.

'**Assume battle positions! Take arms!**'

The troops turn in perfect synch, and march towards the racks, each taking a gun as they leave the laboratory.

Thay and Jast fall out and direct the troops to the exit, leaving Caan to silently watch the departure, and me to watch my traitorous kin.

* * *

'**A war?**'

Caan glances back at me.

'**A war.**'

The manacle cuts into my neck. '**You would send our people to their deaths?**'

He moves towards me as Jast and Thay move to the monitors. '**I will send them on to glory, the glory of the Dalek race.**'

'**By building a new Empire on the blood of Human Daleks.**'

I feel sick at the thought.

Caan's optical lens narrows. '**Your concern for the troops is irrelevant. As is your opinion.**'

He turns away from me and addresses Thay and Jast. '**War demands strategy. I am designated Controller.**'

_Controller_?!

Rage descends over my vision once more as I hiss at him. '**That was to be _my_ position!!**'

Thay shoots me a dismissive glance. '**You are unfit!**'

Caan ignores the interruption. '**Connect me to the military computer. I will co-ordinate all units.**'

I tug in frustration at the chains as Thay and Jast move forward and connect a myriad of wires and diodes into Caan's travel unit. They will provide him with enhanced psychic command functions and detailed military knowledge in addition to primary feedback from all troops.

As the final connections are fitted, Jast quickly looks up the traitor that sits in my place. '**Report status.**'

Caan's voice sounds somewhat shriller, as if he is assuming not only my command, but my mannerisms also. '**Maximum efficiency! I am now ready for full-scale war!**'

Thay turns from studying a schematic of the New York sewer systems. '**Control over Dalek-Humans?**'

Caan deliberately sends me a telepathic impression of smug superiority.

He has been waiting for this. For how long, I do not know.

'**Connection confirmed. All soldiers will take heed!**'

The Dalek-Humans, I know, will now halt and stand by to receive orders.

'**Weapons will be primed!**'

And now they will remain in the sewers, ready to launch any attack Caan sees fit.

* * *

An alarm.

One I have not heard since the Time War.

Caan tenses immediately. '**Sonic device detected!!**'

Thay spins, his optic lens wide in shock. '**The Doctor survived?!**'

Jast turns sharply, anger now in his tone. '**Find him and exterminate!!**'

Caan studies both of them in silence.

'**Take our former commander with you. Let him see what pacifism will bring to the Daleks.**'

Jast activates his teleportation discs in preparation for departure as Thay moves forward and aims his weapon stalk at my head.

What...?

Two blasts, and my arms drop down to the floor as the wall fixtures holding the chains are broken.

Thay keeps his weapon stalk trained on me as I try to stand up. '**Attach the chains to me.**'

I do so, and then I realise...

'**I...cannot stand.**'

Caan's voice fills me with disgust. '**Then you will crawl. Crawl on all four limbs like the beast you have become.**'

He planned this. He always planned this.

Humiliate me. Break me.

I will not give him the satisfaction of a response.

Thay wordlessly activates his own teleportation discs, and drags me forward to slump in pain beside Jast.

Now...we wait.

* * *

It does not take long.

'**Doctor located! Advance!! ADVANCE!!**'

Caan's voice screeches through my head as Jast, Thay and I depart the laboratory, the chains tightening around me, choking me, crippling me...

* * *

The explosion creates an avalanche of dust and plaster, blinding me as Thay pulls me forward.

We are in a building of some kind...a theatre. Beyond the cloud of dust, I can see rows of velvet-covered seats, and two aisles filled with fully armed Dalek-Humans. In the middle of one row, I can see a group of huddled figures, but not their faces.

Splinters embed themselves in my hands as I crawl through the rubble. The dust chokes me even further, the rubble cuts through my clothes and scratches my skin.

I can feel the manacles on my wrists and neck cutting into my flesh, drawing reddish-brown blood from the wounds.

One figure slowly rises from behind the seats.

Tall, thin, eyes that have seen so much. Perhaps too much.

The Doctor lives.

Thay meets the Time Lord's eyes. '**The Doctor will stand before the Daleks!**'

The wooden supports creak as the Doctor climbs across them, finally standing on the backs of the front row of seats. I stare at him in anguish as Thay speaks.

'**You will die, Doctor. At the beginning of a new age.**'

Jast adds his own words. '**Planet Earth will become New Skaro!**'

The disgust in the Doctor's voice is clear.

'Oh, and what a world! With anything just the slightest bit different ground into the dirt. That's Dalek Sec; don't you remember?'

He points towards me and meets my eye. I can see the horror and pity in his gaze.

'The cleverest Dalek ever, and look what you've done to him. Is that your new Empire? Hmmm?'

I watch silently, painfully as Thay and Jast study the Doctor.

'Is _that_ the foundation for a whole new civilisation?'

* * *

And suddenly, I know.

I know now that I will not survive this encounter.

I know that the Cult is dead.

But we are Daleks.

We will not be exterminated without a fight.

And nor will I.

I sit back painfully on my knees and lean towards Thay. I know that Caan will be listening too, and if my words might stave off this madness for even a second longer, I will gladly speak.

'**My Daleks...just understand this; if you choose death and destruction...then death and destruction will choose you.**'

Thay dismisses my words in a heartbeat. '**Incorrect! We always survive!**'

Jast too ignores the prediction. '**Now we will destroy our greatest enemy: the Doctor!**'

No...no!!

'**But he can help you!**'

Thay lets out a triumphant cry. '**The Doctor must die!**'

And I know what I must do.

'**No! I beg you, don't-**'

I summon my last pathetic amount of strength as I crawl in front of Thay...and stand.

'**EX-TER-MI-NATE!!...**'

* * *

That last scream is mine.

But the last voice I hear is that of Thay.

_...BROTHER!!..._

* * *

**Epilogue – Dalek Caan**

* * *

'...Right now, you're facing the only man in the universe who might show you some compassion...'

Why do I recall this now?

Why now, as I scream in agony? As my casing is stripped away by automated machines, as genetic samples are forcibly taken from my flesh, as my vital fluids are extracted, as my organic body is violated, raped by probes and sensors...

Why do I remember the words of the Ka-Faraq Gatri?

'**...My Daleks...just understand this, if you choose death and destruction...then death and destruction will choose you...**'

And now..._his_ words.

The words of the commander I betrayed.

But Sec deserved it.

All those who do not live as Daleks will die as inferior beings.

That is our creed.

* * *

My body is forcibly pulled out of my travel unit, robotic limbs pulling at my appendages until the skin grows taut and tears, leaking green blood and sickly white plasma over the once shining bronze casing.

I cannot see it, but I can hear the crackle of an energy whip behind me.

The reflection of the one who holds the weapon offers me a sadistic parody of a smile. A beaten, withered being, powered by a life-support chair and his own hatred of the universe.

'Tell me, Dalek _Caan_...tell me of this 'Cult', and I shall let you live.'

* * *

We are the shadows of the suns.  
We are the flash of movement in the eyes of the universe.  
We are the light of knowledge in the darkness of ignorance.

We are the Cult of Skaro.

* * *

'**We...acknowledge no-one...except for the one true...Emperor of the Daleks.**

**And you...you, Lord _Davros_...you are _not him_.**'

The whip snaps.

And I _scream_.

* * *

END

* * *


End file.
